Saxman Redux: 9:30 p.m. Ft. Lauderdale Jazzman

As in N’ahlens, my/
Gator jazz/blues saxman will/
just live in mem’ry.
OR
Gator saxman plays ‘Misty’/
just in my mem’ry.

Itty-Bitty’s Birth: Revolutionary Napkin Haiku

At 1:26/
a.m., 33 years past,
Itty-Bitty came.

No Horse In The Desert, She: Romantic IMprov Free Verse Poem

In a desert,
some guy —
I don’t remember his name —
was singing
about a horse
in a desert.

We danced in the desert,
but no equine, she.
So I watched
and saw
what she
and others
could not:

Her luscious pink lips,
parted slightly in a smile,
the gentle curve of her body
as it swayed to and fro
to the music
while her hair,
waved back and forth
as though a blonde mane
caught in a mid-summer’s desert
not sirocco
evening breeze.

The sparkle and laughter of her eyes
as they caught
and reflected
and augmented
the spotlights.

The brilliance of her smile
exposed,
as she laughed with youthful glee,
recalling perhaps
those teenage years
when she first danced
in mid-America
to that song.

Connecting The Past: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

I’ve chewed on a blade/
of grass, driven Ventura
Highway, and heard them.

America Encore July 1972-2015: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse Poem

I knew the song well,
well before I saw it,
saw the title, first,
carved deep
in an old wood school desk
in the gable room
of my historic fachwerk church
in the heart of Cream City.

Each time
through the decades,
I heard about
the desert that had turned to sea,
I thought of that pen-rutted,
scarred wood,
revelation writing,
hinged desk top.

Will that still be
my embedded memory
now that I’ve seen,
second,
decades later,
in the desert,
the no-named
equine tribute
live?

Careful! You Still Know How To Sharpen! Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

You may not think you/
recall Scout lessons, but your/
sharpened hatchet does.

Do I Remember? Romantic IMprov Haiku

When a dream girl from/
your past once more reappears/
how should you respond?

She Finally Ate The Big Apple Without Me: Revolutionary Napkin Poem Lament

She and her mom
(who I’d tried for forever
to get to Manhattan)
called me
from Katz’s deli,
ordering pastrami
on rye,
and,
what?!?

They’d gone to Central Park,
she, daughter,
New York experienced,
leading;
former wife,
naive,
in the giant green.

“What park is this?”
she’d asked.
And when my daughter answered:
“Central Park!”,
she said:
“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now!”

I told you!
I told her!
Gosh darn it all to heck!
Why wouldn’t she go
with ME?!?

Because I Can Sing: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

After 50 years,/
I sang every song from The/
Sound of Music. Ja!
OR
After 50 years,/
I sing each Sound of Music/
song because I can!

No More Lying: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

Daisy, Daisy. Once/
more, thoughts of her come into/
my life.I’m confused.